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Ok, here's the rest of the dream sequence. I had to cut it into two chapters because it was so long. Roy's learning a lot in this and finally comes to a decision. Thanks for your continued support and finger fuel!! Hang in there, a Johnny/Roy meeting is coming!

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Kent looked up, saw Johnny running toward him and grumbled, "'bout frigging time, Gage." while he fumbled to turn over the engine. Johnny was shaking his head, calling "No time! Leave it! Get out of there now! Leave it!" but Kent ignored him.

A noise caught Roy's attention and he knew the gas had ignited but his eyes remained glued to his partner. He watched as Johnny turned just as the building erupted, then tried to protect himself as best he could. He watched as the blast force picked Johnny up and slammed him into the squad, pelted him with debris and finally the fireball rolled over him—all within seconds. Then it was over, Roy stood there helplessly as Johnny's arms fell back to his side, his eyes wide but unfocused, his mouth moving as he tried to breathe though his chest failed to move.

Inside the squad, Kent was relatively protected so he just ducked down. When it was over, he sat up with a smile, looked out the window toward Johnny and laughed, "Wow. Some ride huh Gage?"

When Johnny didn't answer, he got out of the squad and walked around the front toward him. "Gage? You alright?"

Cap and Mike were running toward the squad also, Cap and Kent reaching Johnny just about at the same time. Roy moved closer with them, heard Johnny finally catch his breath only to groan in pain as his wounds began to bleed. He saw the color leave his partner's face as Cap eased him to the ground. Caught up in what he'd just seen, Roy murmured to himself. "Oh Junior."

Worry was obvious on Cap's face as he took his struggling paramedic's pulse then looked up and sharply called, "Kent!"

Roy, too, faced the trainee, wondering why he hadn't joined Cap at the injured man's side and was surprised to see Kent actually backing away from them, his face nearly as pale as Johnny's. Cap put more force into his second call "Kent! Pull yourself together man! He needs a paramedic!"

"He's freezing up," Brice commented.

Roy frowned as he muttered, "Not necessarily. Maybe he's . . .he's just in a little shock himself. After all, watching someone get injured like that was . . .pretty upsetting." 'I know it was upsetting for me,' he concluded silently.

Brice cocked his head at him, "Still making excuses for Kent?" Then he nodded to himself as he turned back toward the scene, "Well, keep watching and we'll see if you change your mind."

Mike had returned with the gear and gently touched the injured paramedic as he said his name.

Johnny looked up at him and gave a faint grin before reminding his shiftmates they had other priorities. Roy nodded his approval. "That's John for ya. Always worried about others first." The three of them watched as Captain and Engineer went back to the engine. Kent, however, was once more backing away from Johnny's supine form until Johnny ordered in his trainer voice, "Kent. Pay attention . . . trainee. You've got …a job to do."

Roy shook his head, his gaze intent on the scene before him. "He's going into shock fast." he mused, "He can barely talk." He listened as Johnny told Kent "Assess, ABC's . . . like always. Pressure bandages on worse . . .wounds. Then vitals."

Brice pushed Roy closer but the older paramedic didn't protest. He, too, wanted to get closer to his injured partner. Roy noticed Kent's hands trembled violently as he fumbled in the trauma box. Marc's voice quaked as he questioned Johnny. "Which . . .which wounds?" Johnny took a deep breath and it was obvious he tried to keep his voice even and calm as he replied, "Whatever's bleeding the worse."

Kent nodded at that and with barely operating hands taped one dressing over the gash on Johnny's cheek and more on two others on his arm. Then Roy saw Kent's face pale even more as he looked at Johnny's hands then quickly looked away, his adam's apple bobbing madly as he swallowed rapidly, in the process ignoring Johnny who gasped out, "Marc. Look on my chest . . .and legs too."

Kent refused to meet the injured paramedic's gaze as he reached for John's shirt, hesitated, pulling back then gingerly reached for it again, holding the fabric carefully between his fingers in a grimace as if afraid to get any of the blood on him. Roy shifted uneasily, everything in him willing Kent into action, knowing time was a wounded man's enemy. However, Kent froze again, horror in his eyes as he watched Johnny lift a bloody hand up and grab his wrist. For a second Roy was afraid the man was either going to puke, shake Johnny loose, run or maybe a combination of all three.

Roy himself took a deep breath as he saw the effort his injured partner was taking to try to calm the other man down. "Marc. Don't worry . . .'bout saving shirt. That's what we . . .get uniform . . .allowance for." Johnny rasped as he tried to give the other man a confident smile. The knot that had formed in Roy's gut over the last week grew and tightened as he saw the efforts his wounded partner was making in trying to aid Kent as much as his own obviously failing body let him.

Kent bit his lip and ripped the shirt but the force of the movement jerked Johnny whose eyes widened in pain and a strangled moan escaped him. The sound made Roy move closer, wanting to comfort his partner but had the reverse effect on Kent. The other man pulled back again, his head turned from Johnny while the injured paramedic gasped out, "Marc. Vitals. Call . . . Rampart. Need permission . . .for IV."

Brice looked at Roy, "Isn't it a shame that there's valiant Kent doing all he can for poor dumb Gage while Johnny is being hysterical and combative."

Roy felt his face flush as he recalled the words Kent had told him. "But this is just a dream; it might not be what really happened." He tried defending.

Brice laughed heartily, his face turning grim though as he suddenly stopped, "Get real, DeSoto. You forget, I'm your conscious. I can't and won't lie to you." He leaned closer, "You know how Johnny is. You've seen him injured before. You know what these kind of injures do. You saw him afterwards in the treatment room and you heard what Wheeler, Mueller and Stoker all told you happened at the scene. You know this is true."

His voice thunderous now, the Brice figure commanded, "Look at the man you told Mike would make the ideal partner, Roy! Kent can barely call in the vitals and he's even messing those up. You know you can verify this with Dixie. Kent hasn't even tried controlling Johnny's worse bleeding, he's forgotten to request an IV, he hasn't even started his patient on O2! He hasn't begun to render any kind of even basic first aid! And you know that's true, Wheeler and Mueller told you that at Rampart."

Roy shook his head, trying to refuse what the figure of Brice was telling him. If he accepted it, he had to accept his own responsibilities over this and he couldn't do that, it hurt too much. A look of righteous anger came across the other's face and Brice pointed at Johnny's bleeding form. "Look at him! Look at Johnny, Roy. At this moment, he's dying! He's in shock, bleeding out and Kent's terrified of touching him!"

Roy frowned, falling back on his previous anger in response to the truths he was being forced to see, "John." Roy muttered obstinately. The Brice figure smirked as he shook his head. "Johnny." He stated again with the continued smirk. "I can't lie to you and you can't lie to me. In your mind you know Gage can never be anything but 'Johnny'."

Roy turned his back on the smirking figure but his sight unwillingly caught on the bloodied form at his feet. He watched as Johnny grabbed desperately at Kent's coat. Johnny's eyes were wide-pupils dilated, his breath becoming rapid and shallow and his mouth working several times before he managed to gasp out, "M . . . Marc. IV . . .IV… Shock.. . . gonna . . .gonna pass . . . "

Shudders raced over Johnny's body as his eyes turned glassy then slowly closed, his body relaxing into unconsciousness. "Johnny!" Roy called, his arms moving forward to grasp at his friend even as he saw Kent drop the bio-phone receiver and do the same.

"Good! Now Kent'll help him." Roy murmured then his own eyes widened in horror as Kent roughly grabbed each of Johnny's shoulders, lifted him off the ground and shook his limp body repeatedly all the while screaming, "No! Don't pass out! You can't pass out! Wake up! You hear me; wake up damn you! You have to tell me what to do! What do I do? Damnit tell me what to do!"

Roy's blood ran cold at the sight before him, his mind screaming in protest, 'Help him! Help him, damn you! What in hell's wrong with you, Kent! What kinda paramedic are you!'

Brice pulled Roy gently back as the sandy haired man keep his eyes glued to the disconcerting scene, his own breath now coming in fast pants. "Yes." Brice told Roy, his voice solemn, "That's what happened." He nodded toward Cap who had raced up and taken Johnny's body gently from the ineffective paramedic before shoving Kent roughly aside. Wheeler and Mueller dropped on either side of the unconscious man. "Now he'll get the treatment he needs." Brice confirmed softly.

Roy watched, nodding as the paramedics from 110's gave Johnny the aid Roy, himself, would have if he'd been there. Through it all, Johnny remained unresponsive, his vital signs low. Roy wiped a hand down his face, "How . . .how long was treatment delayed?"

Brice shrugged, "I don't know. Cap would, so would Brackett. But I can guess about 7-10 minutes. That was the response time for 110's as you well know."

Roy sighed as he straightened up. He settled his shoulders and tried to settle the turmoil inside himself as well. "Well. I know he's better now." He shoved the fear-filled things he'd seen firmly away and continued with a confident nod. "John's out of surgery and in SICU." Roy stopped as Brice shook his head. "What? What are you trying to tell me?" Fear washed through him and he swallowed hard, "He's . . .he's gonna get better now, right? I mean the doctors are treating him."

Brice nodded, "The doctors are treating him for the wounds he received from the explosion but that's not all. He's not nearly out of the woods, so to speak, yet. They can't treat him for the wounds you gave him and those are slowly killing him."

Roy stared at him, his thoughts flashing back to what he'd been thinking right before he'd apparently fallen into this nightmare. "Wounds I caused? What . . .what do you mean?" A heavy feeling in his gut matched a niggling thought in his mind telling him this was true even if he didn't want to admit it.

Brice looked at him, then grabbed his arm and pulled, "Come on. I see I've got more to show you."

Roy blinked and found they now stood in the doorway of a room in what Roy recognized as Johnny's house. Roy glanced once at Brice who nodded toward the door, so with a sigh, Roy pushed it open. Once through, he found himself strangely pulled to the bedside. He looked down on his partner's sleeping form, noticing Johnny looked exactly as he had when Roy'd snuck in to see him while he was still in the hospital.

The blanket had slipped down slightly, revealing the many dressings with slight bloody seepage as well as the scabbed—over shallower cuts. Roy looked at Johnny's neck, noticing he lay at a slight angle allowing Roy to clearly see the pulsating area in his stretched neck, showing Johnny's heart beat in a strong rhythm. His gaze moved to see Johnny's battered chest rise and fall evenly with his respirations.

Roy turned toward Brice and shrugged, "He looks the same. He's healing."

Brice shook his head. "I told you; the wounds from the explosion weren't the ones killing him. Look again."

Roy turned and let his gaze sweep over his partner's form again. This time, there appeared to be a shifting and suddenly he could see . . .things . . . looking like shafts of ice embedded in Johnny's body. A shining substance welled to the surface around them and trickled down to pool on the bed around him. Roy moved closer, his eyes wide. "What . . . what are those?"

"The wounds you gave him. The bolts you shot into him. They're the ones killing him." Again Brice repeated. "You put them there; you're the only one who can remove them."

Roy frowned, then reached out and grasped one which looked distressingly too close to Johnny's heart and pulled. Not only did it not move, but Johnny grimaced in pain then whimpered softly as Roy clearly heard his own voice say, "You are nothing – like- me! You are a menace, Gage. The way I see it, if I stick with you when the inevitable happens maybe I can save innocents from the backlash. I figure I owe that to the citizens of LA. After all, I was the one who recruited you."

Roy jumped back, his heart racing as he tried to calm himself. His wide gaze centered on Brice who nodded, "Yeap, your words. Each one of those bolts is a phrase you've literally speared him with over the last three weeks." To demonstrate Brice carefully tapped several others and Roy's voice echoed around the room,

"Did you stop for coffee, Gage? This kid doesn't need you dawdling"

"Bring in the squad and don't take forever doing it."

"There are some advantages with having a skinny partner. I can use him to get into tight spots for a rescue, kinda like one of those specially trained dogs."

"Gage is an Indian and we all know Indians never lose their way.."

Brice pointed to a nasty oozing area with a shaft buried so deeply it was barely visible and told Roy, "See this? It's the initial wound." Roy's voice came across, "Get to the damn point, Gage! I don't give a damn about you; I want to know what you did to my daughter!"

Roy cringed as he realized that each one came from his mouth, aimed with deadly accuracy into the very being of the one he'd called 'friend'. Brice ignored him as he continued, his hand just over what looked like open surgical incisions. "These here are all the racial slurs both from you and from the Kent family." Again Roy heard his voice as well as Marc's, Amy's and finally that horrid conversation with Tammy. Brice grinned at him, but the grin held no amusement in it. "You've heard the expression 'words cut like a knife,' well, it's true; they do."

Roy's breath quickened again as guilt settled over him but Brice continued, pointing out ragged open and running cuts next. "And all these slashes are actions. Here's where you pushed him away from working at the scene of the traffic fatality. Here's when you shoved him out of the way while going into the kitchen, here's where you refused to treat his burns at the fire until Cap ordered you and oh yes, this lovely deep one is when you called Kent "junior" "

Brice looked up, his gaze sad, then leaned closer, his gaze intent. "Do you understand now? These are soul wounds and when they bleed, bit by bit, drop by drop the soul dies. Look at him now, Paramedic, and assess his condition."

Roy did, seeing the previously strong pulse he'd clearly seen before wasn't there and the breaths John took were ragged, way too far apart, and weak. He looked back at Brice, tears in his eyes. "Alright! I see it" he cried out in anguish, his guilt a painfully sharp object within his own body. "I did all this to him! I admit it! Is that what you wanted to hear!" Roy turned his back on the figure on the bed as he repeated in a broken whisper, "I did this to him."

He felt the hand on his shoulder but didn't move as Brice said, "I didn't need to hear you admit it, but I think you yourself needed to."

They stood there, silently. In the background Roy could still hear the too slow, weak respirations. "Why can't I just pull them out?"

Brice shook his head, "It doesn't work that way. There's been too much damage and too much time from the initial injures for a quick apology to work now. These wounds are deep and they've festered."

Roy frowned as he turned back around and looked at the terrible shafts again and saw the angry red/black flesh around them. "Festered, how?"

"Each time Johnny thinks about what you've done to him or said to him or about him, the wound goes deeper and rots alittle more. And he's had weeks to think about all you've done. It will take more than just a quick 'gee, I'm sorry buddy, forgive and forget?' to fix them now. However, if he is to live, you have to heal them."

Roy shifted uncomfortably, "It has to be me?" He asked tremulously.

Brice glared at him. "You gave them. Why not you?"

Roy shrugged as he looked back at the figure on the bed.

Brice gave a patient sigh, "You did this; your actions are the direct cause of all this. And as such, your actions are tied into fixing it."

Roy flinched as he once more heard the words Dixie had told him just a few hours hence, "You started all this, Roy DeSoto. SO now what are you going to do to fix it?"

Roy still hesitated, the guilt over all he'd done nearly overwhelming him. He dropped his head, "I . . .I can't. I caused him too much pain. I can't . . . "

Brice's eyes narrowed, "I've thought you were many things, DeSoto, but I never thought you were a coward."

Roy felt anger swell up in his chest, coupled with frustration. "Don't you see? I've hurt him too much; I can't bear to hurt him anymore." He grasped at an idea, "The other guys, Marco and his family and Mike. Even Dixie, they can help him."

Now Brice looked sad as he slowly nodded, "They can and they probably will. But the outcome may not be the same." He stared intently at Roy, "Can you live with that?"

Roy felt trapped and scared but he had to know. "What do you mean? Someone hurt like this can survive, right?"

Brice looked back at the figure on the bed. "If you choose not to help him, he might survive. But when someone is wounded like this, it takes years before the wounds heal and even when they do, the person is never the same as they were. They become closed off, unwilling to be open to anyone else, a loner, afraid to open themselves to this sort of pain ever again."

Roy's head jerked up at that. "When . . . when I first met him, he was kinda that way. Sure, he was friendly enough but sorta stand-offish, a loner."

Brice nodded, "Yes, he's been hurt before, but I don't believe nearly as badly as he has this time. That's why healing this time is going to be longer and harder, IF he even tries this time to heal."

A chill went through Roy. "IF?"

Brice nodded, "He's physically weak, he's badly injured, and you know very well a person's will to survive is tied very strongly into their recovery." He pointed down at Johnny's sleeping form. "There is a chance he might survive without your help but it is a small thin chance at best." He looked at Roy, disappointment in his face. "But know this, if he does survive without you, the person who survives will not be the John Roderick Gage that you all know. The Johnny Gage who is lying there, the personality you all know, will die."

Roy looked down and couldn't help thinking back to the years he'd spent with his partner. The talks in the squad, the trips, the picnics and family outings, the many nights spent on Roy's back patio just being together. Could he really live without those? Ok, so he was the one who had hurt his friend, and now Johnny may never want to be his friend again. But Roy found, to his surprise, he himself was still John Gage's friend and as his friend Roy couldn't bear to see him suffer.

Brice's next words cinched Roy's decision. "Now's not the time for whining about guilt and chest-thumping recriminations, now's the time for assertive action. You were man enough to admit your guilt, are you man enough to face what you've done and fix it?"

Roy clinched his teeth. With a firm voice he announced, "Johnny has to recover, and I mean fully recover. He must. I'll do anything, no, everything I can to help him."

Brice stared at him for several long moments then slowly nodded, "I think you will. I wish you luck, DeSoto, it won't be easy, but I wish you both luck."